Damian "Dain" Eckert
Damian "Dain" Eckert is a Human Rogue and a Raider on Plagued. He was created by Dain on April 11, 2010. He is the second oldest Active character on Plagued. Personality Dain is confident. Very confident. When you have a working vehicle, plenty of guns and ammo, and enough food and water to last more than one person a decent while, you begin to feel a bit invulnerable. Dain may occasionally act the cold part when necessary, but he's an overall good guy. If he see's someone in danger, he'll do whatever he can to help them. The world doesn't have enough survivors to lose any more. One of Dain's favorite ways to pass the time is to blow some unlucky Lesser's brains out. If you ask him, he'll admit that he doesn't really mind the apocalypse. He never really had anyone particularly close to lose until after it all started, and he needed to find something to do in life. History Dain grew up orphaned, but this didn't really affect him in a negative way. He simply didn't have a family. Like most children, he went to public school until he was 18, getting A's and B's. By the time he'd graduated high school, he had a job at the nearby supermarket as a cashier, earning enough to feed himself, keep some interesting television stations, and maintaining his apartment rent. By the time he was 21, life had begun to get very, very dull. Everything was too average. One year later, something came to spice life up a bit. The apocalypse. For a while, he was frightened beyond belief. His only goal was to escape the city where he lived. And escape he did, driving on any road he thought looked best, stopping to siphon gas out of vehicles wherever he could and killing zombies with whatever was available. It was two months after it all started when he'd run into something that made life more enjoyable. A fenced in mildly defended military base. It was here he met his friend and mentor. A soldier named Frankie Stubrich. Frankie was a bit of a 'rough on the edges' kind of guy. He'd been in the service for ten years, and had been posted in places in Europe, as well as Japan, and was even stationed at Guantanamo Bay for his first two years. He even brought back some souvenirs. When Dain had accidentally drove onto the military base, which was littered with bodies, he was forced to a screeching halt... A blast from a 20mm rifle to his tire. It didn't simply flatten the tire, it blew it out from under the car. As the car began to spin out from the impact, Dain sat ramrod straight against his seat as he hyperventilated. He opened his door, fell out of his vehicle, and crawled behind it. He hadn't been sitting long when a man in his 30's, with a G36K assault rifle came around the car with his gun pointed toward Dain. When he received news of the true devastation of the catastrophe overtaking the world, Frankie and Dain decided on a course of action; haul out and try to find safety, or make it themselves. They abandoned Dain's now useless car in favor of a black hummer, for extra space for supplies. They loaded the hummer down with a few guns, cleaning kits for them, and ammunition; lots of ammunition. Food and water were also thrown into the mix. Within a month, they began to get out more toward the countryside, meaning less abandoned gas stations and vehicles to siphon gas from. It wasn't long until they began to get desperate. And as if by some holy fortune, they came across their answer. A house, far out into the country side, that was covered in solar panels. One week later they were back on the road, but with a new power source. The next few months went by with relative ease. Dain and Frankie became good friends; the only friend eachother had in a world without many actual people left. So when Frankie was killed 9 months later, life got harder. He woke with the moonlight shining through the hummers windshield. He felt a cool night breeze on his face, and instantly knew something was wrong. Looking to the drivers side door, what he saw made him panic. The door was wide open, and not ten feet away he could hear a slight struggle going on. At once he knew what had happened, and in that same moment he knew he was to late. He reached behind his seat and drew out a .357 Magnum, already knowing it was fully loaded. He pulled the hammer back before silently opening his door and sliding out of the vehicle. As he came around the front, he raised the gun toward the shadowy figure, planning to get right behind it so he could put its brains on the ground. One crack of a twig on the ground blew that plan out the window. When the creature huddled over his friends corpse turned toward him, he froze in momentary shock. He expected the dull vacant expression of every other zombie he'd killed so far; not the eyes of dangerous intelligence. What he saw was not some zombie that killed with only the desire of raw flesh. The need was still there, but behind that was a creature not quite understood by man, and never witnessed before by Dain. What he saw before him was a predator from Hell. Before he could wrap his mind around the abomination before him, his gun was out of his hands, and the hands of the creature were around his neck. He was quickly lifted off his feet and slammed onto the hood of the hummer. Repeatedly, he was lifted and slammed back down, to the point of unconsciousness. When he woke, he was still lying on top of the roof of the hummer, immersed in bruises and pain. He rolled off the vehicle and onto his feet, groaning in pain before remembering all of the nights events. He looked around, before seeing his assailant laying on the ground to his right. He stalked closer to it, this time with a knife in his hand. He quickly noted how unnecessary the knife was. A massive hole had been blown through the creatures skull. He leaned away from it, catching his balance in time and managing to keep from being sick. He turned around to a site that sent him over the edge with illness. When his retching was over, he slowly walked over to his friend. When he reached him, the site that greeted him made him want to laugh and cry at the same time. With a chunk missing from his neck, Frankie was dead without a doubt. Even when the creature turned its attention toward Dain, he must have been bleeding out at an alarming rate. But he'd still managed to do it... Hanging from Frankie Stubrich's limp hand was the .357 Magnum. Dain buried his only friend, roughly a year after the start of the apocalypse. In memory of his friend, Dain always keep's the German assault rifle on his person, as well as the magnum that was used by his friend to save his life. Category:Characters Category:Humans Category:Males Category:Active